Ready, Aim, Shoot
by Hatsepsut
Summary: Another present fic. Hawke has become intrigued with Sebastian and asks him for archery lessons, making a certain white-haired elf insanely jealous. There are more than one hidden agentas going on here, though, who will end up paying the piper? NSFW. As per usual.


**And EkoCentric gets another present fic, for being the 100****th**** reviewer of my fic My name is Tethras, Varric Tethras. This is what was requested of me:**

_**My favourite Hawke is a dual-wielding rogue, so my term is when Sebastian joined the gang, Hawke was intrigued by his archery ability and asked him to tutor her and that make one certain elf throw an epic jealousy fit. There you have it! Feel free to twist it to your liking.**_

**Honey, you shouldn't give me the license to twist your idea to my liking, because this is the result you get.**

**Smut.**

Sebastian was yummy, no doubt about that. There must have been a queue of women somewhere, bawling the eyes out in misery the day he joined the Chantry. Of course, Hawke had Fenris, although she used the term lightly. _Had_. The operative word here. She had had him for one night and that had been it. It was a night she couldn't forget, a night she spent countless other nights dreaming about, but that had been it. He had made it perfectly clear there would be no repeat performances in the future, that they could not have any kind of future together, damn his accursed memories.

So why was he looking daggers at her right now?

Oh, it was probably because she was making puppy eyes at Sebastian. And drooling a bit. Okay, a lot. But she couldn't help it. The man was yummy. That tall, toned physique, those beautiful crystalline blue eyes, that thick purring burr.

She seemed to have a thing with men deep, reverberating voices, it seemed. Fenris could make her shiver by reciting recipes for eczema cream, and Sebastian could make her cream her smalls by talking about Andraste. Fucking Andraste, if you could believe it! She had even gone to the Chantry to hear him chant, and Varric had teased her mercilessly for it. Aghh! Her in the Chantry. It was a wonder the huge statue hadn't gotten off its pedestal and walked away in a huff.

Isabela wasn't making things easier, either, dropping hints about what she would like to do to the tall ex-prince, hints that made Sebastian blush –all shades of red, depending on the lewdness of the hint, from a soft pink tinge to a beetroot red -or simply roll his eyes. And the fact that he had confided what a wild boy he had been in his youth, what a whoremonger, hadn't helped one bit.

_Oh, why couldn't I have met you then?_ Isabela had asked, and Hawke seconded the sentiment with all her heart.

Fenris was glaring at her again. She dragged her eyes away from the Chantry brother and glared right back. _Well, excuuuse me, Fenris_, she thought. _I didn't realise I had no right to never look at another man, because I have been dumped by you_!

After all, there was no law against looking.

She turned to Sebastian again; he was bent over his bow, one tip of the massive weapon planted into the ground while he was pressing the other down with all his might, trying to change the string. She noticed the way the muscles on his arms bunched and tensed, how his broad shoulders expanded even more with the tension. He stringed the bow and raised his head, flashing a brilliant smile her way, his incredibly handsome eyes twinkling.

She smiled right back, and thought she heard a little growl coming from Fenris. She turned to glare angrily at him again, her eyes challenging him, as if to say _what business is it of yours_?

Fenris held her gaze for a few seconds, before huffing irritably and stalking off. He could go soak his head in the water and cool off, as far as she was concerned. He was not her keeper. If she wanted to ogle Sebastian, she had every right to.

Well, barring the fact that the man had taken vows of chastity and all. But that little detail wasn't really enough to stop her if she set her eyes on him, and right now, Fenris' behaviour was pissing her off enough to do just that.

"What I wouldn't give for a squeeze of that ass…" Isabela purred in her ear, appearing next to her as if out of thin air.

Hawke trained her eyes on the newest member of her group, _again_, and her eyes flew wide open. Sebastian had taken his chainmail armour off and was now wiping the sweat of his brow with a corded forearm.

Yum. Drool. Pant.

"You are losing your touch Isa, my friend," Hawke teased, her voice a bit breathless. "I thought there wasn't a man alive that could resist you."

Isabela shrugged. "He wouldn't either, if I put any real effort into it, rest assured. He might be a stud, but he's also a bore…All that yammering about the Maker… Yawn, sweetness, yaaaawn…I have better things to do with my time. And better men to do…"

Hawke turned to the pirate with an eyebrow raised up high.

"Balls and you know it, Isabela. That's just sour grapes. Sebastian wouldn't break his vows for _you_ if you were proclaimed Andraste's reincarnation, and you know it."

Isabela crossed her arms over her ample breasts, looking at Hawke with a smirk on her luscious lips.

"Is that a challenge, Hawkey? I'm game." A wicked smile then slowly curled her lips upward. "I know. Let's make it into a bet. The first one that makes Sebastian break his vows wins. Fifty sovereigns."

Hawke looked over at Sebastian. Maker, what a hunk! She wouldn't mind having him break his vows with her. Maybe this was just the excuse she was looking for to spend more time with him without Isabela riling her mercilessly. And if she could get a bit of revenge on Fenris, so much the better. She turned to the pirate and nodded.

"It's a deal."

* * *

Another fight, and as Varric commended at the end, "shoot, we didn't even get their names, this time." With her dual daggers, Fenris' sword and Varric and Sebastian raining down bolts and arrows, the tussle had been almost disappointingly short.

"Nice work, everybody," she smiled at her companions, and made sure her smile lingered on Sebastian a bit more.

Sebastian smiled back, and proceeded to chant a few words of prayer over the bodies of their fallen enemies, at which she felt the irrational urge to roll her eyes, but kept it well under wraps and pretended to bow her head and pray also. Varric shot her an incredulous look and then mumbled something about Choir Boy being a good influence on her, which was _bad_. And _wrong_, somehow.

"So, Sebastian," she sheathed her daggers when he was done, "where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"My grandfather taught me," Sebastian replied, his eyes shaded with sadness. "he was the only member of my family I ever felt close to, the only one that cared enough to teach me something useful." Then his eyes twinkled a bit, and he smiled at her.

"Where did you learn to fight with twin daggers?"

"Like most things I do well," she gave her voice just the slightest hint of a sexual innuendo, "I first learnt by myself. Then I found...partners to practice with."

Varric pursed his lips to try and keep his laughter back at the way the tall archer blushed and at the fake feigned innocent look Hawke shot him in return. As the ex-prince hastened to leave her side and catch up with Fenris at the front, he angled next to Hawke and snickered.

"That was low, Hawke, even for you."

She winked and they both turned to the front to watch as Fenris snapped at something that Sebastian said and then stormed off, leaving a bewildered rogue looking at his back.

"What did I say?" Sebastian wondered, scratching his head and both Varric and Hawke laughed, puzzling him even more.

* * *

Fenris watched, anger seething inside him, as Hawke shamelessly flirted with Sebastian again. It had been happening so often lately, that Sebastian had stopped blushing. Instead, he gave as good as he got, good-naturedly teasing her and tossing her innuendos as well.

He frowned and tried to tear his eyes away, tried desperately not to see the way Hawke's eyes twinkled like yellow diamonds, how her bright smile dimpled her cheeks, not to hear her throaty, carefree laughter. Maker, she was so beautiful, so alluring, so...so Hawke. He clenched his fists in impotent rage as Sebastian brought her hand to his lips and courteously kissed the tips of her fingers, their conversation lost to him in the din of the Hanged Man, but the intent in both their eyes perfectly clear. She wanted the ex-prince, and the damned hypocrite wanted her too.

He bowed his head and tried very hard to control his temper, because any minute now his markings were going to start glowing. Damn, damn, damn! Damn her! Damn them both! The cursed prince had taken vows of chastity, yet he still encouraged her relentless teasing. It was just wrong; why didn't he tell her to stop, since there was no hope of him ever offering her all she was worth?

What Fenris himself hadn't been able to offer her?

He took a deep breath and released it through clenched teeth, once again allowing his eyes to take in their whispered, intimate conversation, the way Sebastian suddenly threw his head back and roared in laughter at something she had said.

Damn her...why didn't she even look his way anymore?

Some small voice started whimpering inside his head at that thought, and suddenly sadness rose above the anger, making him want to hide his head in his hands and start weeping. _I have been such a fool, such a blind, selfish idiot. I let her go, and now she has fallen for someone else. _

"Why the customary long face this time, Broody?" Varric slapped his back before sitting next to him and then his eyes fell on Hawke and Sebastian too, and he chuckled. "Ah, I see."

"You see nothing, Dwarf," Fenris composed himself and tore his eyes away.

"Au contraire, my friend," Varric waved a hand towards Hawke who was now whispering something in Sebastian's ear, "I see everything. I always see everything. I'm just awesome that way."

Fenris scowled and took a sip of his wine, not even gracing him with a reply.

"What I _don't_ see, Elf," Varric went on, "is why it annoys you so much. Weren't you the one that dumped her?"

"It does not annoy me." Fenris spat vehemently, his face whipping towards Varric with narrowed eyes. "It does NOT!"

"The elf doth protest too much, methinks," Varric calmly countered, and chuckled in his cup.

Fenris felt the irrational urge to slam the dwarf's head into the table. He drew a couple of breaths through his nose, trying to calm his temper, and his hand tightened around his glass, until a shattering sound was heard, and he looked to his hand to see glass shards embedded in his palm.

Varric arched an eyebrow.

"So, it was the glass that was annoying you? The poor thing didn't know any better, Fenris, you shouldn't have killed it."

"Vendetis!" Fenris lost control of his temper and his markings flashed blue, startling everyone in the tavern. He turned to Varric, incensed and raring for a fight, when he heard Hawke's voice.

"Fenris!" she gasped and a warm, tender hand grasped his. Turning towards her worried voice, he found his hand in her palm and a frantic look on her face. He was stunned at that concerned, anguished look and his breath caught.

"Maker's breath, you fool," she started removing the shards from his palm, her nimble fingers careful and gentle. "What have you done to yourself?"

_What indeed_, the little voice in his head whined again. _I'll tell you what, Hawke,_ he thought as she gazed at her dark head, bent so tenderly over his injured hand. _I ripped my own heart out of my chest and threw it to the dogs. That's what I did._

Abject misery went through him along with a small glimmer of hope. He had no right being so...so jealous- _yes,_ _admit it you coward_- when it had been him that had thrown away the gift of her affection. Yet, the way she had run to his side, the way she was now tending to his wound, her worried, frantic look at the sight of his blood...maybe she felt a little something for him still.

"What happened? Fenris, are you alright, my friend?" Sebastian leaned over her shoulder to look at his hand, and Hawke smiled warmly at him, dashing Fenris' hopes again.

Damn. The Prince. The fucking prince, so worried, so concerned, so perfect, so...so good a friend. And her smiling at him like that.

He closed his eyes against the rush of emotions: rage, jealousy, hope, despair, guilt. One fed and nurtured the other. He was jealous of her, and furious because of it, behaving towards Sebastian like an enemy. He got his hopes up just to have them drowned in a bucketful of despair. His own behaviour brought him shame and guilt: what right did her have to feel any of this, when it had been him that had pushed her away?

He opened his eyes to see her tear off a piece of fabric from the hem of her tunic and wrap it tenderly around his injured palm. His fingers twitch against his will, involuntarily, and he grasped her small ones just as she was drawing her hand away; startled, she raised her eyes to his face and met his eyes.

Fenris nearly gasped. The bar, the people around them, the whole world disappeared as if a fog had suddenly enveloped them. There was nothing but Hawke, nothing but her bright, luminous feline eyes, rimmed with dark eyelashes; he lost himself in them, drowned in them, forgot to breathe as they drew him in.

And then she narrowed her eyes, and looked away, a familiar look of reproach darkening them for just an instance, and his hand dropped.

"Thank you, Hawke," he had to swallow hard a few times to make his voice steady and she nodded curtly, before getting up and walking away, dragging Sebastian along with her.

Fenris was left staring after her, his eyes following her with a look that bespoke of the turmoil inside him until Varric chuckled next to him.

"What is it now, dwarf?" he found his composure with a jolt, hoping against hope that Varric hadn't seen the way he had been staring at her. Fat chance, as Varric proved with his next words.

"You, my friend, have got it bad. Terminal case of head-over-heels. My condolences."

This time Fenris just bent his head and sighed. He was right, damn him, he was right. It was time he admitted it to his own self; he loved Hawke. No, he didn't just love her. He was madly in love with her, needed her to draw breath, needed her for his heart to keep beating.

_And he had lost her._

"Don't tell anyone," he just told Varric and tossing some coins on the table, walked out of the Hanged Man and back to his mansion, walking like an old, tired man all the way there, putting one foot in front of the other without thinking.

_I have lost her. Maker. She wants the prince now, she can't even look at me without hating me._

_Maker, what have I done?_

* * *

Hawke was annoyed. She was more than annoyed, she was pissed. Isabela had cornered Sebastian, and they were talking heatedly together. She had found the best way to get the archer's attention, too, talking to him about the Maker and Andraste and all that crap.

Humph. As if Isabela gave a shit, flying, prone or otherwise.

But she had to admit it, it was a good tactic. She had mentioned to Sebastian she was interested in converting to the Andrastian religion from...what the fuck was Isabela's religion anyway? And of course Sebastian had been duped enough to start trying to convert her on the spot. Little did he know that she was trying to...make him join her services, instead.

Humph, again. The man was cleverer than a box of hair if he thought Isabela really wanted to join any religion. Yet there he was, happily yammering off about the Maker. And completely ignoring her.

She huffed again, as her eyes fell on Fenris. He had a rather smug look on his face as he too watched the interaction between the ex-prince and the pirate. He was trying to hide his smile, but she could tell he was tinkled pink to see the pirate hog the rogue's attention.

Then, suddenly, inspiration.

"Hey, Sebastian," she called out to him, and could almost feel Fenris tense up next to her, "I have been meaning to ask you something..."

Sebastian shot a expectant smile her way, and Isabela narrowed her eyes at her. "I want to learn how to use a bow. Do you think you could teach me?" she batted her eyes sweetly at him, and Sebastian looked at her for a few long seconds, then to Isabela who had crossed her arms in front of her chest and then to Fenris who was glaring at Hawke.

"Certainly, Hawke," he replied, a cryptic smile on his face. "Whatever makes you happy."

"Good!" Hawke smiled, ignoring Isabela and Fenris. "We can start today, when we stop to rest. If, of course, you and Isabela are done. I wouldn't want to interrupt...anything."

"Isabela was just telling me she needs to head back to town soon," Sebastian looked at the pirate with a questioning look. "She said she had plans for the afternoon. I had already offered to accompany her, but if she doesn't mind..."

_Oh, I bet she did_, Hawke thought. _And she does, trust me._

"We wouldn't want to keep her, then," she said in a saccharine voice. "Isabela's...plans, after all, are very important to her."

Isabela made a slashing gesture against her throat, unseen by Sebastian and Fenris, but Hawke just smiled. The pirate moved past her, mumbling "this isn't over, Hawke," under her breath, as she took the trail towards the town.

Hawke then looked to Fenris. _One down, one to go_, she thought.

The elf stubbornly crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled.

"I'm not going anywhere," he stated. "You will be too preoccupied with your...training, after all, to protect yourself."

Sebastian, dupe that he was, and unable to grasp the subtle nuances in their talk and mannerisms, or blissfully ignoring them, eagerly agreed that Fenris had better stay.

Hawke frowned, but then her face cleared and a sly smile lit up her face. Well, if Fenris wanted to stay and watch her flirt with Sebastian, he was more than welcome to it.

Flirting with the handsome prince while the lover that had walked out on her and broken her heart looked on.

Two birds, one stone.

"Do not tense your arm so much, because it will start trembling, and you will lose your aim," Sebastian moved behind her, readjusting her posture, and enveloping her in his heat. "Keep your muscles relaxed, as relaxed as possible at least."

Hawke nodded and smiled, raising the bow again.

Fenris watched in mounting frustration as Sebastian moved to her back, his tall frame easily enveloping the petite rogue, his chest nearly glued to back and his mouth on her ear. He saw Hawke shiver, saw the way Sebastian's arms blanketed hers, showing her the correct posture and position and just wanted to howl in anger and pain.

Maker, was this his punishment for being such an idiot? Watching another man touching her like this, watching her tremble at his touch?

Hawke released the arrow and it hit dead centre. She turned and embraced Sebastian, genuinely happy and proud of her accomplishment.

She thought she heard a little growl and whipped her hand around to look at Fenris; he was standing up, his whole body rigid, and looking at them as if they had just mortally offended him.

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow and looked at her, a small blush tingeing his cheekbones.

"I fear Fenris has taken offence with our practice," he muttered, but Hawke turned to him with a smile, although there was some tension around her eyes.

"Ignore him."

"Hawke?" Sebastian whispered, puzzled. "Is there something going on between you?" he shot a look to the irate elf, making sure he was too far away to listen. "he seems to be rather...possessive towards you."

Hawke drew a deep breath, her eyes darting between the two men. "He has no right to. He was the one who left. Drop it, Sebastian."

Sebastian just smiled.

"Whatever makes you happy."

Hawke gave him a little tense smile and then resumed her pose, drawing another arrow. It had started off as a ploy, a way to make Fenris jealous as well as win that accursed bet with Isabela. She had been attracted to Sebastian; he was handsome, kind and courteous. She should be happy with the attention he was giving her, she should be flying to fucking seventh heaven.

But she wasn't.

All she could think of as Sebastian once again moved to her back to position her arms and show her the right technique was the elf that was fuming a few yards off, leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. She should be thinking of Sebastian, of his masculine body bracketing hers, of his clean, fresh scent surrounding her. Instead, she found herself drawn again and again to the smouldering green gaze that was shooting daggers at her. Her body was trembling, but not from Sebastian's proximity; it was from the tension she could feel directed towards her in waves from the elf, the dark, menacing air he was excluding. Fenris was jealous, he was insanely possessive and that made her blood run hot and bubbly in her veins.

"Concentrate, Hawke," Sebastian's deep burr fanned her ear. "Relax and concentrate." His fingers tightened on hers as she was holding the arrow, and pried them a little more open. "Don't grip the shaft so hard," he instructed, and the double meaning made her cheeks tinge a pale pink. "Gently, hold it gently. Like a caress, firmly, but gently."

She glanced at Sebastian out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he was doing it on purpose; she had no chance to reach a conclusion.

Fenris had had enough.

He was next to them in a flash, his marking flaring, his face shoved right into Sebastian's while a feral growl left him through clenched lips.

"Leave," he hissed, and Sebastian drew back, fear in his eyes. It was hard not to be afraid, the look on his face was murderous, while his whole body shook with anger.

Sebastian raised his hands in front of him defensively. "Whoa, Fenris!" he gasped. "What is wrong, my friend?"

"Leave!" Fenris growled again, taking a menacing step forward.

Sebastian shot a wide eyed look to Hawke, only to find her breathless, gazing at the elf with longing darkening her eyes. Her breath was coming from her throat in small excited puffs of air, and her eyes had dilated to almost all black.

"Whatever makes you both happy," Sebastian muttered and bowing to Hawke, who paid him absolutely no attention he strode away, stopping once to gaze back at them.

What he saw made his step falter; he nearly fell flat on his face, then a smile lit up his face.

Fenris had pushed Hawke against a nearby rock, and was trailing his mouth down her creamy throat; one of her legs was wrapped around his waist, a look of bliss painted on her face that was tilted backwards, eyes closed, mouth gaping in pleasure.

He smiled once more and headed back to Kirkwall.

A certain dwarf owed him money.

* * *

Hawke couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't feel her knees; they had turned to water as Fenris' mouth left a trail of fire on her skin, kissing down her neck, nibbling on her pulse point. She felt his fingers struggle with the fastenings and clasps of her armour, and wriggled frantically, instinctively tying to help him.

All logic thought, all her hurt and anger at him had fled the minute he had grasped her forearms and pulled her towards him, into a hungry, vicious kiss. She forgot to be annoyed at him, she forgot everything but the sensation of his hot, wet mouth devouring her.

"Vasta faas!" he swore viciously, trying to unbuckle an obstinate little clasp that just wouldn't give under his trembling fingers, "Take this thing off! Now!"

Sanity returned as he drew back to work the clasps and she grabbed his fingers, gazing with some effort into his flushed face.

"Fenris?" she breathed, the memory of the way he had walked away sending pain and anger to mix with the desire that was making her whole body shake and her hands wind around his neck despite her will. "What are we doing?"

"I'll be damned if I let that fucking prince of yours have you, Hawke," he growled, attacking her neck again. "You're mine. Just mine."

"But you don't want me..." she desperately tried to keep hold of her fleeing good sense. "You left, remember?"

He raised his head and shot her a look that was smouldering with possessiveness. He attacked her mouth again, bruising her lips with the strength and ferocity of his kiss, while his fingers finally managed to unclasp her armour and her chest piece fell to the ground with a clang.

"Later," he moaned into her mouth, and a hand moved to squeeze her breast, making all reason flee again in a rush of desire that ignited through her flesh and started pooling between her legs. "We'll talk about how stupid I was later. Right now," and he gave her a blazing, insanely aroused look, "I just need to fuck you."

She surrendered, fire consuming her at his words.

"Oh, yes," she moaned. "Fuck now, talk later. Got it."

* * *

Hawke slumped against his sweaty chest, trying hard to draw breath that just didn't seem to go deep enough. He whole body was tingling, small shudders of pleasure still igniting inside her, while moisture leaked out of her, coating his semi-hard staff that was still embedded inside her.

It had been insanely fast and frantic, a blur of movement and barely leased desire; hot and steamy and just the way she liked it. He had taken her like an angry beast, marking her with his grip, peppering her skin with darkening bruises, with teeth and nails and the strength of his thrusts. She sighed and rested her head against his chest, her legs still around his waist, him on his knees and her weight driving her hard down on his slowly hardening staff.

She shot an incredulous look down to where they were still connected and a cheeky smile lit up her face.

"Do we talk now?" she nuzzled his ear, taking the delicate tip between her teeth, and he shuddered like a stallion underneath her before he rocked upwards, sliding through her slickness once more.

"No," he moaned, "not yet."

She pushed him back and straddled him more completely, grinding her hips on his, taking him even deeper with a breathless moan.

"Got it," she said. "Fuck some more. Talk even later."

He chuckled, all anger gone in the violence of their coupling, and before she knew it, she was turned on her back and her legs were perched upon his shoulders as he bent to her and run his tongue up the length of her slit, making her hiss. By the time he was done exploring her, she was already breathless with renewed desire and pleasure, the little nub he so expertly tortured with small flicks and twirls of his talented tongue throbbing like a wound. He wrapped his lips around it and suckled, throwing her in another mind-shattering orgasm, but she had no more strength to scream; instead she mewled his name like a helpless kitten and he chuckled against her flesh, immensely pleased with himself.

He then crawled sinuously up her body to take her mouth in yet another one of the deep kisses she so craved, sharing their combined taste with her. Her legs fell listlessly to his sides and with a gasp she found herself once more connected to him, his hard length surging inside her, her body instantly tightening around him and moulding to his shape.

"Can't do both at the same time, my Hawke?" he teased and she writhed underneath him, trying to make him move, desperate for the sweet, sizzling pleasure of his thrusts, the feeling of the blunt head of his erection hitting that secret spot inside her once more.

He hissed, and then licked the sweat that had pooled between her breasts, holding still, pushing down on her as if he wanted to merge his flesh permanently with hers.

"We'll talk until we're both blue in the face," she gasped and rolled her hips upward. "Later."

He started moving then, and bliss exploded through them both once more.

"Not later," he panted. "Tomorrow."

It was threat he made sure to live up to.

* * *

Varric raised his head form the thick ledger he had been writing in and gave the tall archer a questioning look.

"Am I disturbing you from your work, Varric?" Sebastian asked while casually taking a seat on the dwarf's table, stretching his long legs in front of him with a cryptic smile.

Varric regarded the smile for a second before slamming the book closed and leaning back with a questioning look.

"Nah, just guild business. Boring as hell, Choir Boy. Now, tell me," and he arched his fingers under his nose, "whatever is it that is giving our little Chantry brother that cat-that-ate-the-canary look?"

"I do believe you owe me some coin, Varric," Sebastian crossed both arms behind his neck and leaned backwards. "Thirty sovereigns, wasn't it?"

"You're shitting me!" Varric exclaimed. "You actually managed it?"

"As you would say, Varric, I shit you not," Sebastian laughed. "Pay up."

Varric harrumphed. "Where's your proof, Choir Boy?"

"Probably too sore to make it back to town, Varric, trust me," a devilish glint lit up Sebastian's cerulean eyes. "I made that elf so jealous he is probably going to fuck her black and blue."

Varric tutted. "Such language, for a Chantry Brother, I am shocked."

"I wasn't always a Chantry brother. Now pay up."

Varric sighed and pulled up his coin purse.

* * *

The very next day, Isabela was drinking at her customary place at the Hanged Man's bar, when Hawke slipped next to her, a little worse for wear, exhausted and walking with some rigidness that showed how sore she was, and wordlessly handed her a leather purse full of coins.

"What's this?" Isabela weighted the purse in her hand.

Hawke gave her a tired, but content smile.

"The best fifty sovereigns I have ever squandered," she replied and then turned on her heel and made her way, a bit stiffly, towards the door.

Isabela's eyes widened.

"Oh, you lucky bitch!"

"You don't know half of it," Hawke tossed behind her back, and returned to her mansion for that...talk she had been promised.

The end?


End file.
